Once — Bobby reads — Bob saw
Bobina in flagrante delicto. Bob’s
statement was . . .
Bobby: Was she soaked in delicious fragrance?
Bob: Golden rain — forest. Invariably utterly disgusting
to Bob. But tastes vary.
Bobby: Urine, that is. Fuck! — Yuck, that is.
Bob: 842 squats, Bobby, for ‘Fuck!’; 842 squats, Bob, for the aforesaid.
On two occasions —
Bobby reads on
— Bob’s vision statement was
a succinct, unuttered
‘Division of labor.’